


Death's Shadow

by magyarok



Category: Ragnarok Online
Genre: Psychological Drama, i honestly don't know what i did but EH, well - it was meant to be one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:30:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magyarok/pseuds/magyarok
Summary: "there's no place for regrets in the life of an assassin"- and perhaps, there wasn't place for them in death, either.





	Death's Shadow

Run. Catch your breath briefly, then keep running again. Don’t stop, don’t waste much time, and if you look back, that man will catch up to. ( _There must be an exit, anywhere, but there must be one!_ )

"What a hard headed _dumbass_ ", barely a whisper.

Even on the relative distance between the chaser and the chased, he can hear those words, and rather slowly, he turns around just to meet with those eyes, his ghostly figure vaguely but still visible within the blackness - he was getting near to him. And although his heart was beating too fast from running to the point he could feel physical pain, where his muscles were on fire, the foolish hunter kept on his resolve to keep running. Where to, he didn’t know, but the more he ran the better.

He already saw what he did to the young priestess accompanying him ( _precise, swiftly slicing her neck without her noticing his presence first_ ) and to the unlucky alchemist that they met just minutes prior ( _silent, a poisoned knife abruptly piercing neck with minimal chances of survival_ ). Stopping, or even a mere distraction, it meant death. 

After all, that man was… _something_ else. A mere ghost just couldn’t be that deadly, that silent, that terrifying.

But most importantly, what did he have in store for _him_?

Fear grows within his heart, his mind nearly overruled by extreme anxiety, but then he saw it in front of him; a corner with two possible ways. Not thinking much, he runs much faster and goes to the left, his heart beating incredibly fast. If he was lucky, he’d have lost sight of the monster going after him. If he wasn’t, he could already say his prayers.

How funny, is that this hunt brought Eremes a few memories back from his early adulthood - his first successful murder.

(Ah, yes, he remembered it. Eremes Guile, a rookie assassin who just finished his training. His superior, an old man giving him information about the target he was after. Himself, carefully listening to each small trait, to each small detail the older one would tell him, to ensure a well-done job.)

Slowly ceasing to run, Eremes stops on his tracks. A sigh, he thinks it before anything. Only he could hear his own breathing, listening carefully to the sounds in the pitch blackness. How foolish the hunter was, he wasn’t that far away from his chaser, and when he heard his footsteps, the assassin sighs. “The left.”

(If he had to be honest, his first kill was harder than he thought. Sure, he had been training for years at that one point, but the real thing was far different from the training. Even still, reserved yet confident in his skills, the then twenty years-old Eremes Guile left to his mission, not before his superior yelled to him as he went; _“come back in one piece”_. Though he didn’t say a word, in secret, he appreciated the thought.)

And when the foolish hunter hears approaching steps from not so far away, getting louder at a terrifying speed, he barely had any time to react when he turned around, because as soon as he did, a spectral blade pierces through his chest, the iron effectively perforating his heart. All that came out from his mouth was brief scream, but he was limp when he hit the floor. Eremes kneels on the ground, two fingers on the man’s neck - effectively, he was dead. 

He merely blinks, uninterested, looking at the corpse’s horrified expression. “Died a dumbass. Hmph.”

(And when he muttered those words, the picture became clearer - his target stuck in an eternal scream as the poisoned blade went through his chest, his blood dying the worn out dagger. He dropped dead almost immediately, his scream miraculously not being heard by people that came from the corner - they didn’t notice such scene even as they passed by the dark alley - and though the first kill was a shock at first, nevertheless Eremes calmed down rather quickly, _“easier than I thought”_.) 

His thoughts, however, are interrupted when the sound of familiar voices reach to his ears, calling out his name - Cecil’s, always loud and fast-paced, was impossible to mistake. Followed him, perhaps. He turns around and his eyes, though faintly, glow. 

_There’s no place for regrets in our field_ , the memory of his superior speaking to him randomly came up as he made his way to the sniper. Even after a little more than a decade, and those words are still stuck on his mind, the same words he told him after his first job.

“Neither after death, it seems.” he whispered so low, only he could hear it.

**Author's Note:**

> a. this story was mostly a warm-up, so forgive me for the rustiness. curiously, i have no idea why i choose eremes for this - frankly, i'm rather lukewarm on him, but hey! sometimes it's nice to explore/write about characters i'm not a fan of, so in a way, it was rather nice an experiment! although, shorter than expected...
> 
> b. also, my headcanon for eremes' life back when he was alive is... _dark_ , but what could you expect? i mean, he is an assassin, right? LOL


End file.
